


Marry Me

by Blink_Blue



Series: S3 Fics [16]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: 3x15, Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post S3 Finale, Smut, episode coda, they have a real convo too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 09:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10487859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: 3x15 coda.





	

_“Marry me, Connor.”_

Connor stares, wide eyed and shell shocked, thinking he _must_ have heard wrong, because he can’t even begin to comprehend the idea that Oliver is _asking him to marry him._ His lips are parted but no sound comes through. The words ring in his ears.

_Marry me, Connor._

“C’mon, say something,” Oliver whispers after a moment of silence. His hand finds Connor’s where it rests limp on their sheets. “I want you to marry me.”

“Um…” Connor awkwardly clears his throat and scoots up an inch on the bed. The other man leans back to allow him the space. “This is such a boner killer, dude.” Connor mumbles under his breath. He can’t even meet Oliver’s gaze.

“I know it’s not the most romantic proposal–” Oliver doesn’t miss the way Connor flinches at the word. “But I want this. I want you, I want _us_. Forever.”

Connor pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. He didn’t think he would ever hear Oliver utter those words to him–he certainly wasn’t expecting it _now_. Not when the state of their lives is invariably a mess. “Forever’s a long time, you know.” Connor finally says as he looks up.

“Of course I do,” Oliver says softly. “And I want it with you.”

He says it with such conviction that Connor _almost_ believes him.

“Ollie… you know I love you…”

“I love you too, Connor!”

“I just–I don’t know if we’re in the right place right now… Everything’s such a mess–were we even together before all this happened?” Connor’s stomach churns painfully, and seeing the hope and joy fade to sadness on Oliver’s face doesn’t make him feel any better. “We broke up,” Connor whispers. “Then we got back together, then we broke up again! I just–I don’t want to fuck this up again. I don’t know if we’re ready for this… this is _huge…_ I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Oliver nods, his hand tightens around Connor’s. As much as he wishes he could, he can’t deny the truth in Connor’s words. “I know it’s scary. And I know that our lives have been a mess these past few months.” Oliver chuckles softly at the understatement. “But breaking up with you… finding out the truth about everything… this whole _crazy_ nightmare we’ve been through… the only thing I know for sure, is that I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m not _losing_ you again.”

“You’re only saying this because you thought I was dying in a well somewhere.”

Oliver frowns. “No, Connor–”

“Yes!” Connor tenses involuntarily and slips his hand out of Oliver’s grip. “You thought I was in danger. You thought I was dead–again. I know what that feels like! This is just… adrenaline or whatever. So what happens when that wears off? What happens days from now, weeks from now, _years?”_ Connor sighs and stares down at his hands in his lap. The fear that Oliver might change his mind is all too real. “I don’t want this to be the reason you’re asking me to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“It’s not the only reason,” Oliver says softly.

Connor shakes his head as he looks up again. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re gonna regret later.”

“I’m not going to regret this–”

“Ollie–”

“Are you saying no?”

Connor nearly chokes on the air in his throat. The silence between them is suddenly crushing. Self-destructive tendencies aside, even Connor would find it difficult to say no to everything he’s ever wanted. It’s harder than he could possibly imagine, denying himself the opportunity to spend the rest of his life with the man he loves. How could he say no to that? They could be happy. They could make each other happy.

But Connor knows from experience that it’s never that simple.

“Ollie, we’re so fucked up…” Connor whispers. “ _I’m_ so fucked up. Why would you even want to marry me?”

“Because I love you,” Oliver whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I know I’ve done a shitty job of showing it–”

“I know you love me, Ollie–”

“No, just–just listen, please. When I broke up with you. I–I thought I needed to find myself, or figure out who I was without you, or _something_. We… we weren’t _right._ And I couldn’t figure out what it was–”

“It was me.”

Oliver swallows, and after a moment, he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” Oliver says quietly. “It was the secrets. The secrets and the lies. This whole, crazy, _insane_ life that you had been hiding from me. That’s what it was…” Not that it got any easier after _knowing_ the truth. But at least afterwards, he could face their problems head on. At least then, he knew what their problems were.

There are days when Oliver wants to kick himself for not seeing it sooner. How could he have been so blind? Maybe he should have forced the truth out of Connor. Maybe if he had, the hole they’d gotten themselves into wouldn’t be so deep. Oliver sniffs and gives a shake of his head. It’s pointless to agonize over ‘what ifs’.

“I get why you didn’t tell me stuff,” Oliver murmurs softly. “I get why you kept your secrets. _I get it._ I really do. And I’m on board. I meant what I said, Connor. Whatever you want to do, I’m with you, one hundred percent, all the way. Because I don’t need anyone else. I just need you. I know that now. I love you, Connor.”

“I know you do,” Connor says tiredly as he wraps an arm around himself, feeling a chill on his bare skin. He closes his eyes like the words are painful to say before he looks back at Oliver. “And love makes you reckless.”

“Then let’s _be_ reckless!”

“I don’t want to fuck this up again!” After everything that’s happened, Connor feels like grabbing the other man by the arms and shaking him, demanding where on earth he gets his optimism from. “I’m terrified we’re making a huge mistake. And please don’t say you love me again.” Connor could tell just from the look on Oliver’s face what his next words were going to be.

“You don’t believe me?” Oliver challenges.

“I don’t–” Connor breaks off with a sigh. “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not fair for you to say. That’s also not for you to decide.”

“It’s true though. You know I fucked Thomas,” Connor says through gritted teeth. The memories of that awful night flash through his head, starting with Thomas, ending with Wes, and everything else in between. “I’m so fucked up… and messed up. I hurt you and I’m so sorry, but I know that I’m just going to keep hurting you again and again, so… so really, why are you even bothering with me?”

“You’re forgetting that I’ve hurt you too,” Oliver says sadly, remembering the times he didn’t fight harder for _them._ “That’s not all on you, Connor.”

“Okay, so we’re _both_ fucked up!” Connor says, a hint of hysteria in his voice. “Yeah, that’s just great! Let’s tie the knot already!”

“I know we’ve had our issues. There’s so much shit on our record…” The fights and the arguments, the break ups and the diagnosis, the secrets and the lies… their record should be tossed, burned, and forgotten. Maybe if Oliver were a stronger man, he’d think they should just cut their losses and call it a day.

“The only thing I know right now, is how much you mean to me,” Oliver says softly. “I mean it, Connor. I _know_ you, and I _love_ you. I know your shit, your emotional baggage and your crap and your issues and I don’t care! I don’t! I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And that’s all that matters to me.”

“You think you know,” Connor murmurs quietly, his eyes rimmed with tears from Oliver’s sincerity. “You think you know my shit. But you don’t.” He looks away, focuses on a spot of nothing on the far wall so he doesn’t have to look Oliver in the eye. “You wouldn’t want me if you did.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.”

Connor shakes his head. “I’m terrified you’ll leave me again.”  

“I’m not going to leave you again.”

“You can’t promise that–”

“I know. I need you to trust me, when I say that I know what I want.”

Connor swallows. “You know Annalise called me broken? Maybe I am. Maybe she’s right. I’m not meant for this, Ollie. I’m not _good_ at this. You could do so much better than me.”

“I don’t want better than you,” Oliver says softly, shaking his head. “I want you, Connor. And you don’t have to say yes. You don’t have to say yes right now. You don’t have to say anything at all. Just don’t say no.”

“Ollie…”

Oliver leans forward and presses their lips together gently. His hand reaches up to cup Connor’s face and the other man sighs softly into his mouth. The sound has Oliver melting into his arms. “Don’t say no,” Oliver murmurs in between soft kisses as he pulls the other man closer. It’s not close enough. Even as their kisses turn passionate, and the burning desire floods through their veins, as Connor’s gentle sounds turn to hisses and moans–it’s still not close enough.

Not when Oliver needs to reacquaint himself with every inch of Connor’s body, just to remind himself that Connor is here and safe, and that just _maybe,_ their relationship is finally back on the right track.    

So Oliver kisses him, slow but passionate. His tongue runs over the sharp edge of Connor’s teeth as the other man arches beneath him. It’s not quick or aggressive, like their last reunion. It’s not fumbling or desperate, like it was in the beginning. He can taste him, smell him, and feel him and it’s overwhelmingly perfect.

Connor presses his hips up and groans. He pulls Oliver down, relishing in the feeling of his weight on top of him. The other man’s erection presses into his hip and he’s suddenly reminded that they’re both conveniently naked. “Ollie,” Connor gasps. “I wanna feel you. Now.”

Oliver moans and kisses him again. Connor’s hands fist in the hair at the top of his head, and he tugs to get his attention, until Oliver finally breaks away. “Ollie!”

Oliver’s chest heaves as he scrambles to search the bedside table for lube. Connor pulls himself up on bed, adjusting the pillows behind him, and impatiently wraps his legs around the other man’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Christ, it’s been too long,” Oliver mumbles as he fumbles with the cap of the tube.

“I love you, Ollie.” Connor chokes out, right as Oliver is slicking up his fingers.

Oliver’s fingers still and a glob of sticky lube drips onto their sheets. He looks up with wide eyes and a soft grin on his lips. “I love you too, Connor.” A tug from Connor’s legs around him jerks him back to the task at hand. “Get in me,” the other man growls.  

Oliver grins as he lifts Connor’s thigh with one hand, the other slicks his hole, tracing it with gentle circles before slowly pushing in. Connor groans softly, his eyes flutter closed and his head falls back to the pillow behind him. Oliver watches mesmerized as his finger disappears inside Connor, works it slowly until it’s time to add a second. He can feel the other man stretching around him, and Connor’s hand tightly gripping his arm lets him know just how much he loves it.

Connor hisses softly when Oliver adds another finger. He presses down against him, lips falling open–“I’m good,” he gasps, eager to feel more than Oliver’s fingers inside him.

Oliver’s fingers cease their movement, still buried inside the other man. He glances up at Connor, wanting to prolong the moment. Connor’s dark eyes silently beg him for more. His lips are parted, heavy breaths falling between them–and Oliver can’t wait a second longer. He pulls his fingers out and reaches for the discarded lube.

Oliver slicks his cock generously. He moans softly at the sensation, but that’s nothing compared to what it feels like when he’s pressing into Connor. Connor’s tight muscles engulf him and Oliver closes his eyes, shudders a deep breath as he continues to press in slowly. His head falls forward and Connor’s fingernails painfully dig into his upper arms as he slides in inch by greedy inch until he’s completely buried to the hilt.

Connor pulls Oliver down until their chests are flush together, and they brace themselves against each other. For a moment they’re just a trembling, tangled mess of limbs. Oliver’s arm wraps around Connor’s waist as he mutters his name along his jawline, and Connor groans softly, still adjusting to the sensation of being filled.

Oliver’s gasping and panting softly as he starts to move. Their foreheads rest together as Oliver pulls out just enough to thrust back in, slowly at first, until he builds his momentum. Soft grunts and muffled moans fill the space between them. “You feel so fucking good,” Oliver’s lips brush against Connor’s cheek. “I’ve missed this so much.”

Connor reaches down to grab Oliver’s thigh, pulling him closer, deeper as he rocks against him. He lets out a ragged gasp when Oliver gives him a particularly hard thrust. Oliver’s lips find his own, devouring them like he’s starving for it, and Connor murmurs something incoherent into Oliver’s mouth.

He’s fucking missed this. Oliver inside him. Oliver kissing him, Oliver’s strong arms wrapped around him. “Don’t stop,” Connor gasps. He’s leaving finger shaped bruises on Oliver’s thigh as he struggles to pull him closer, and deep, red scratch marks along his back–benefits of fucking face to face. “You feel so good.”

Connor gasps and then groans when Oliver attaches his lips to his neck, sucking at the tender skin before moving along his collarbone. Oliver licks the red spot he’s left behind as Connor arches underneath him. Then he kisses him hard and buries a hand in Connor’s hair, damp with sweat. He gives it a tug, loving how Connor gasps sweetly into his mouth.

Connor’s cursing amidst his moans, begging for more. But Oliver slows his pace, instead of picking it up. He shudders at the feeling of Connor clenching around him. “Don’t fucking tease me, Oliver.” Connor says through gritted teeth.

Oliver lets out a shaky laugh, his face buried in Connor’s neck as he rocks into him slowly, not pulling back as much as he could.

“Fucking move,” Connor gasps. His nails are leaving deep half-moon indents into Oliver’s ass, begging him to go harder.  

“You love me?” Oliver suddenly murmurs against his skin.

“Of course I do!” Connor gasps.

“Say it.”

“I love you,” Connor whispers. “I love you. So fucking much. Now please–please just–”

Oliver cuts off his blabber with a hard thrust, leaving Connor gasping loudly, his head thrown back so Oliver can easily press a wet kiss to the nape of his nape. “I’ve missed this so much,” Oliver gasps heavily. “I want this for the rest of my life, Connor. I want _you._ ”

“Your dirty talk is usually way better than this–” Connor’s cut off by a groan torn from his throat when Oliver thrusts hard into him and follows with another short, hard thrust–finally choosing a rhythm he can get on board with. “Oh fuck Ollie–”

“I want this forever.”

Connor can feel the smirk on Oliver’s lips where they’re pressed into his neck. The other man’s name falls from his lips as he _somehow_ manages to fuck him even deeper. He’s trembling and it feels like he’s melting into a bundle of hot nerves. A random thought bursts into his head– _that he might need Oliver like he needs the air in his lungs._

“You _bastard_ –this isn’t fair–”

“No one fucks you as good as I do,” Oliver growls, deep in his throat. “Isn’t that right?”

“You cocky son of a bitch,” Connor gasps. One of his hands is fisting the sheets beneath him, the other clenches Oliver’s hair so hard it _must_ be painful.

_“Isn’t that right?!”_

“Oh! Fuck yes! Yes–please, Ollie–just–ah shit–just fuck me–”

Somehow, Oliver manages to reduce him to incoherent words and blabber every _single_ time. Until he’s an unintelligible mess that can barely think straight.

“Say it,” Oliver murmurs. His heavy, uneven breathing betrays the tone of his voice. “I want to hear you say it.”

“No one fucks me like you do, I swear–no one!” Connor moans from deep in his throat. With a hiss, his eyes are rolling back into his head and he swears Oliver must have a magic cock. Or maybe they are just meant to be, because sex with Oliver just isn’t like sex with other guys. “I love you so much,” Connor gasps. “I fucking love you so much.”

“Marry me.”

Connor’s eyes fly open. “Fuck you for saying that while you’re inside me!” He screeches.

“Marry me, Connor!”

“No, you can’t do that!” Connor whines, loud and pitifully. He breaks off with a stuttered moan when Oliver snaps his hips _just_ right. He’s panting, begging for more–and Oliver’s words fight for dominance in his head over the pleasure in his body.

_“Marry me.”_

“Fuck you!”

Oliver shifts and picks up his pace. His hand inches between them to take Connor’s cock and he gives it a firm squeeze. He knows he’s hitting Connor’s spot just right when the other man’s words devolve to desperate, inelegant sounds. Oliver gasps Connor’s name heavily as the other man releases a low whine. And he keeps snapping his hips and stroking him–just a few more thrusts–and Connor’s shuddering out a shaky breath as he tightens around him.

Connor cums with a heavy gasp and a broken, stuttered moan. Warm spurts of his cum splatter between their stomachs, and Oliver’s own orgasm follows quickly. He spills himself inside Connor, gasping and trembling, so dazed from the intensity of his orgasm that he can barely see straight.

“I love you, asshole.” Connor murmurs when it’s over, his voice hoarse and weak.

Oliver chuckles into Connor’s neck, pressing smiles into his skin. As the aftershocks of his orgasm slowly ebb away, he gently climbs off the other man. Connor’s legs tremble as they drop to the bed. Oliver grins, watching him for a moment before reaching for a discarded t-shirt to clean them off. He drops heavily onto the bed next to the other man, completely exhausted–but in a good way.

“Yes.”

Oliver turns his head to the side. “Hmm?” Connor is watching him silently, and there’s something about the look on his face that scares him.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Suddenly, the air in the room gets really difficult to breathe.

“What?” Oliver’s voice cracks embarrassingly, but he doesn’t even care.

Connor blinks hazily, still struggling to calm his heart rate. But his voice is steady when he speaks. “You scare the hell out of me,” Connor murmurs, tears pooling in his eyes. “The fact that you’re asking _now,_ of all times, it’s–it’s crazy. And this… you and me–taking this step that… my whole life, I never thought would happen for me… it’s fucking terrifying.” Connor’s voice breaks, and he blinks quickly, hoping he doesn’t start crying. “You scare the living daylights out of me.”

Oliver grins softly, a part of him in shock that this might really be happening. But he loves the other man so much it’s worth _every_ second. 

“I want to do this,” Connor continues. “As long as you’re by my side, I want to do this, with you. So yes, Ollie… I’ll marry you.”

Oliver can barely breathe. He gasps and sobs, tears blurring his vision, but he reaches for the other man anyway. “Is this real?” He asks, happiness dripping from every word. “We’re getting married?!”

The look on Connor’s face must answer his question because Oliver pulls him close, presses their lips together and they melt into a shaky, snotty, pile of exhausted limbs.

“My mom’s gonna throw a fit,” Connor mumbles against his lips.

“I can’t believe this!” Oliver whispers. “I can’t believe it–I love you so much, Connor.”

“I love you, too.” Connor murmurs.

“We’re going to make this work,” Oliver says softly. “Together. We’re going to make this work.”

Connor nods. He rests his head on Oliver’s shoulder, a gentle smile on his lips, and his eyes closed. “Damn right we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


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